


trigger force inside my brain

by vikiforovs (always_robin)



Series: holding back these thoughts of you [1]
Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: (who's pining?? yuri?? otabek?? we will never know), Implied Sexual Content, M/M, Pining, it does get a tiny bit explicit but only for like one sentence, lies there might be a sequel in the works, poor decision making, probs not safe for work, yuri plisetsky's No Good Very Bad Terrible Teenage Crush on Katsuki Yuuri
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-14
Updated: 2017-04-14
Packaged: 2018-10-18 19:55:30
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,460
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10624032
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/always_robin/pseuds/vikiforovs
Summary: or, how otabek got roped into curing yuri of his No Good, Very Bad, Terrible Teenage Crush on Katsuki Yuuri.





	

**Author's Note:**

> drabble inspired by and dedicated to the wonderful [dadvans](https://dadvans.tumblr.com), [rcmclachlan](http://rcmclachlan.tumblr.com), [counterheist](https://kixboxer.tumblr.com), [cutthroatpixie](https://cutthroatpixie.tumblr.com), [fireblazie](https://fireblazie.tumblr.com) and their varied and wonderful headcanons about yuri plisetsky’s Dumb Teenage Crush on katsuki yuuri and how he deals with it (or very pointedly does not deal with it very well.) 
> 
> originally posted on [tumblr](https://vikiforovs.tumblr.com/post/159530183471/or-how-otabek-got-roped-into-curing-yuri-of-his) but im posting it here as well because im a needy hoe who requires constant validation. this was a monster that kept growing. it stared out as a ~900 word drabble i wrote on and off for a week before i went and edited it for tumblr posting.
> 
> set sometime in the vague, nebulous future, after yuri's turned eighteen but before he's 21. let's say, 19? 20? 
> 
> anyways, enjoy yuri plisetsky's Teenage AngstTM with a side of pining!!
> 
> title taken from sylo nozra's 'losing myself'.

****The thing was, crushing on Katsuki Yuuri was supposed to be harmless. It was reassuring in a way, that Yuuri would never look twice at him, especially in a way that Yuri sort-of wanted him to. It was a thing that all teenagers did, crushing on someone unattainable. Yuri dared anyone not to melt when faced with those kind brown eyes, that warm smile, always a nice word ready for him (and those sculpted calves and tight ass and shut up _shut up oh my god_ Plisetsky-)

(He also ignored the voice in his head that insisted on reminding him that katsudon also had the biggest Teenage Crush on the Shitty Geezer, and look how that turned out.)

Ahem.

Alas it didn’t go away, to Yuri’s dismay. it got worse.

Over the years, Yuri had landed himself in many uncomfortable situations revolving around katsudon, not limited to: walking in on him and the Shitty Geezer making out on their couch in their apartment, Yuuri grinding on the Shitty Geezer like his life depended on it and moaning louder than most pornos; overhearing their pathetic lovemaking through the thin walls of the hotel they’d been staying at for Worlds (and no Yuri did not, _did not_ shamefully jack off to the high pitched whines katsudon made when the Shitty Geezer pounded into him just right, punctuated by “there! oh _there_ , Viktor!”); Otabek walking in on him blasting Taylor Swift’s ‘You Belong With Me’ while clutching his Katsuki Yuuri special edition Eros dakimakura with _Real Swarovski Crystals!_ ; Viktor walking in on him caressing his limited edition pin up of the infamous Pocari Sweat ad featuring Katsuki Yuuri in very tight running shorts and not much else.

The point being, this stupid infatuation was supposed to fade and recede like the Shitty Geezer’s hairline. To his horror, it only doubled, tripled like the force of Yuri’s anger when confronted by JJ after having been beaten to the higher spot at the podium at Worlds for the second fucking time. Yuri loved and hated in equal measures, apparently, and this thing for katsudon had grown roots and supplanted itself in him deeply. It had also grown wings, so it could flutter in his chest stupidly whenever katsudon did anything katsudon-like. And now he was using extended metaphors. What the fuck was next, poetry?

Beka offered to be his beta reader. Beka offered to help in many ways, least of which being Yuri’s (mostly silent) pillar of support as he ranted to Otabek about the Unfairness Of The World, including the varied ways in which katsudon had tested his patience that very day.

Operation Kill The Crush had not gone very well. He'd tried everything from elastic band therapy (he'd rubbed his wrists raw and bleeding) to avoidance tactics (katsudon always ended up cornering him afterwards and Yuri just... wilted under the force of his concern). He'd tried forcing himself to think bad thoughts about Yuuri, which usually failed after an hour or so due to crippling guilt whenever he looked at his bedroom walls and/or phone wallpaper and saw images of katsudon smiling back at him. Fuck. And there was always the annoyance of Shitty Geezer hanging around and making everything 4384393 times worse. When he saw what they had together, that love and support and passion, something in him ached. He couldn’t have that for himself, it wasn't his in the first place. Yuri knew, on some level, that this was the teenage angst everyone talked about, _Just a phase_ , he told himself. _This, too, shall pass._

Yuri was out of options, back to the drawboard. It was one thing to withstand this crush, another thing to get rid of it altogether. Maybe he needed to take a closer look at things. The core reason why he’d gotten in so over his head with Katsuki Yuuri. The crux of the problem.

“Maybe it’s just hormones?” Otabek offered, shifting his feet in Yuri’s lap as some movie played on in the background, volume barely above zero. Yuri didn’t even know why it was on, ambience maybe? He and Beka were on their mobiles, occasionally leaning over to show each other funny posts or videos. Otabek showed him a picture of his sister in traditional eagle hunting gear and Yuri made appropriate impressed noises. Eagle hunting was _badass_. Their days usually went on like this, training slightly lighter now in the off-season. This was his second night here and Yuri probably should have taken him out somewhere in St. Petersburg but he couldn’t be fucked.

Yuri had been excited to find out that Otabek was panning to stay a month in St. Petersburg in the current off-season, after swearing up and down to his coach that he’d continue on with his training and off-ice conditioning while staying with Yuri. Hearing the news, Yuri had immediately and wordlessly roped katsudon and shitty geezer into convincing Yakov what a Good Idea this was by shooting them a _look_ . They owed him for putting up with their lovey-dovey displays at the rink. Viktor immediately came up with bullshit excuses like _building relationships with fellow skaters, friendships to last the ages, connections that would withstand the test of time-_

“Fine, fine,” Yakov grumbled wearily, waving them off with one hand, the other clutching his hat.

(Yuri did not ending thanking the katsudon and the shitty geezer. So what if he made some extra pirozhki and left it on top of katsudon’s gym bag, shut up,)

So. Otabek was here in Yuri’s apartment, a comfort in the storm of Yuri’s emotional turmoil, giving him some solid advice. He contemplated the suggestion Otabek offered in thoughtful silence. Otabek absentmindedly massaged Yuri’s left calf as he checked something on this phone, cracking the slightest smile. _Hormones_ …

He’d never slept with anyone. Never even fooled around really, too consumed by his laser focus on figure skating and proving himself the best, the greatest. Maybe this was all a poisonous cocktail of repressed sexual frustration and a misplaced desire to be on top (in more ways than one.) Katsudon _had_ beaten him solidly to the top at the GPF, Worlds and other minor competitions over the past few years. Something in him sat up and took notice, linking ‘victory’ and ‘success’ and ‘attraction’ together.

The only solution for this, then, was to have sex. Blow off steam, get laid. preferably with someone he could trust, someone he already had an established relationship with. Not Mila, god no. Not Georgi either, he was the definition of Overly Attached Boyfriend and probably the Token Straight of Yakov’s figure skaters. Certainly fucking not shitty geezer, and katsudon was out of the question (also the reason he was even think about sleeping with someone else in the first place.)

That basically summarised Yuri’s entire social circle. He didn’t make friends outside of skating, or many friends in skating for that matter. Otabek was an anomaly, the exception. He was also taking his schooling courses online through correspondence. who was left then in St. Petersburg, who he could rely on?

Otabek made a soft noise as Potya jumped over Yuri’s legs and into his lap, kneading at his thighs with her claws as she settled in. The clock ticked in the background, muted sounds of the movie playing, probably some bullshit action scene. Yuri’s mind whirred.

He swung to face Otabek with an unholy look in his eyes. Otabek, who was widely known in the skating word for being an unflappable oasis of calm, felt distinctly uneasy. Like he was being appraised thoroughly and matched against a very stringent selection criteria; approval or rejection could mean equally horrifying things. A lesser man would run for the hills. Some, perhaps, would say a wiser man as well.

Yuri’s smile spread over his face, content and satisfied and more than a little terrifying. “Beka,” he purred, swinging his legs out of Beka’s lap and slinking closer across the couch. Potya, sensing danger, leaped out of the way and retreated somewhere in the apartment. Otabek fervently wished he could do the same, but Yuri had some sort of unfathomable hold on him.

“Beka,” Yuri repeated once again in that voice. The one that tested the limits of Otabek’s endurance. “we’re friends aren’t we?”

Otabek, not trusting his voice, nodded slowly. His eyes were fixed on the shift of Yuri’s hips as he crawled halfway into his lap. He leaned against Otabek’s spread legs and settled his hands on his thighs, squeezing slightly. Various warnings and alarms began blaring in his head, a little too late now, because Yuri leaned closer and murmured, “friends do favours for friends, yes?”

Otabek was not being overly dramatic when he thought, _I feel death approaching._

**Author's Note:**

> u can find me on [tumblr](https://vikiforovs.tumblr.com) hmu!! hoped u enjoyed this wild foray into yuri's hormone addled adolescence.


End file.
